Under the Summer Rain
by Kiyo Kage
Summary: Under the summer rain, I burned away.  Under the summer rain, you turned away.


Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.

Warnings: Suicide

…

"Noah, don't do this," Kurt begged, grabbing his boyfriend's hand.

"No, it's not 'Noah' to you anymore. When we get to school, it's 'Puck' and 'Hummel'. This summer was a mistake," Noah snarled, pulling his hand out of Kurt's and walking outside, getting drenched by the rain as he tried to get to his car. Kurt followed him, not caring that the rain might ruin his perfect hair and designer clothing.

"So what? Your promise that you'll always be there for me? Was that just some elaborate lie to get me to sleep with you?" Kurt asked, standing in front of the car door.

"You're surprised? I've done the same thing to every other girl I've been with. You think I can go back to that school, claiming to be a fag who loves you? I was horny and you were there," Puck's face seemed to be stone as he chipped away at Kurt's heart.

"Noah, I was raped in that fucking shower stall that you found me in! I was going to kill myself! And you were the only person it seemed I could trust! You gave me a reason not to slit my wrists once I got the strength to go home! I gave you everything I had and now you're throwing it aside like I'm one of your sluts?" Kurt was sobbing by the time he was done screaming.

Noah Puckermen didn't say anything. He simply pushed Kurt to the side and got into his car, driving off. Kurt stood in the rain, watching the person who had saved his life now leave it.

Kurt Hummel wasn't the same when he returned to school. His smiles didn't reach his eyes, his laughs seemed forced, and he couldn't stand to be touched. The biggest change of all, though, was his clothing. He used to be so proud of keeping up with the latest fashion trends, looking down on those whose clothing didn't measure up to his standards. Now he wore simple hoodies and jeans, blending in with every other guy in the school. His hair, which had always been perfect, now looked like he took a shower and forgot to style it.

Mercedes tried to talk to her best friend, scared that he'd do something drastic. But Kurt would just shake his head, telling her she was crazy, that nothing was wrong. She wasn't fooled, but played along to protect Kurt from those who she knew would take this weakness and use it against him. She would stop at his house every night, either to cook or watch movies with him.

Burt started spending less time at the shop in favor of coming home to Kurt. He sat through musicals without complaining, started bringing home food he knew Kurt liked. But his son barely noticed him, barely even seemed to realize what he was watching and eating.

Both of them were trying to make up for whatever they had done to hurt the almost silent boy. Neither of them could help, however, because they had done nothing wrong.

The person who could save Kurt from himself seemed to have forgotten the young boy. Noah Puckermen walked the hallways with the same swagger, appearing to have enough self-confidence to do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted. But those who saw him when Kurt Hummel entered his vision saw this mask drop. For a second, Puck's true feelings came to the surface.

He wanted so badly to reach out to Kurt, apologize for the way he had hurt his ex-lover. He wanted to dress Kurt in clothes that were gathering dust in his closet. He wanted Kurt to bitch him out over the way he had treated the smaller boy. But most of all, he wished that he had the strength to let Kurt know that he was sorry. But he didn't have the strength, and kept himself out of Kurt's life.

None of them knew how bad Kurt was hurting. They thought he would snap out of it but as the days progressed, he only got worse. He dropped out of the Cheerios, quit fighting for solos in glee, and skipped school more often than not. He was lost to them, but nobody had an idea of how to bring Kurt back. Puck was the only person who knew of the rape, let alone their relationship.

One day, Kurt snapped. He couldn't handle living anymore, not when the memories of his rape and the pain of losing Noah stayed so fresh. That night, after his father had gone to sleep, Kurt took out the sleeping pills he had stolen the week before. Sneaking to the pantry, he grabbed the bottle of whiskey his father had been saving for the next party at the garage.

Kneeling in his room, Kurt pulled the note he had written the night before out of his drawer. Placing it on his night stand, Kurt sat on his bed once more, comforter laying across his lap. He began to take the pills, washing each down with a swig of whiskey. When he had taken enough, he laid back down, smiling. When he closed his eyes, he knew they would never open again.

The next morning, Burt had no idea of the nightmare he was entering. Traveling down the stairs, he was surprised to see his son still in bed. Giving the sleeping soprano a slight shake, he was startled at how cold Kurt's skin was.

"Kurt, wake up," Burt panicked, shaking Kurt's body harder before scrambling for Kurt's cell, dialing 9-1-1. "It's my son. He's not breathing and-oh god," he gasped, noticing the night stand. "I think he committed suicide. There's whiskey and pills on his nightstand!" Burt was becoming hysterical, clutching his son's body as if that would bring him back to life. After giving their address to the dispatcher, he grabbed the note that was being held down by the whiskey bottle.

Reading the note (it seemed so wrong that Kurt hadn't let what was going to happen affect his grammar-he had been calm enough to spell each word correctly and punctuate), Burt found himself seething. Somebody had dared to hurt his son in a way that couldn't be fixed, and this "Noah" guy had finished the job by breaking Kurt's heart beyond prepare.

That night, after a full day of talking to the police and arranging Kurt's funeral, Burt sat at his dining room table, rereading his son's final words. Kurt had thanked him (and Mercedes) for trying to help, but they weren't the cause of the problem so they couldn't fix it. Only Noah could, and he was acting like Kurt didn't exist.

In a fit of rage, he scanned the letter into his computer. Using the email address he had gotten from Finn, he emailed Noah Puckermen, attaching Kurt's letter. Burt knew it was cold, but he informed Puck of the suicide and funeral, giving him the time and date in case he wanted to "own up and be a man." This guy was the reason he no longer had his son, he didn't feel like the young punk deserved a phone call.

The rest of the glee club was notified by phone, except Finn, who had returned from spending the night at Mike's around five. Finn and Mercedes had been the hardest-Finn looked at Kurt like a younger brother and Mercedes was his best friend for life.

Finn didn't understand what had happened at first. When the shock passed and the reality of Kurt's suicide had sunk in, he crumbled to the floor.

"No. Why would he do that?" Finn choked out. "Why would he kill himself? We were practically family!" He couldn't get anything else out.

Mercedes was even worse. When he broke the news to her, the line was silent. After a minute had passed, her sobs became audible, and Burt's heart broke for the young diva.

"Mercedes, the funeral is Friday. I'd love it if you could sing something there," Burt requested, his voice betraying the hopelessness he felt.

"Yeah, Mr. H. I gotta go," Mercedes choked out before hanging up.

The days leading up to the funeral were hell. Everywhere Burt turned, there was a reminder of his son. The kitchen was a mess because Kurt was no longer there to clean. The garage was slowing because Kurt was not there to help out. And Burt spent every day crying because his son is not there to make him strong.

When the funeral came, everyone was surprised to see Noah Puckermen arrive, in a suit no less. When the time came to speak, Burt took the podium, glaring at Noah before looking at the piece of paper he brought up with him.

"I don't know what to say. I always thought Kurt would be speaking at my funeral. Parents aren't supposed to bury their kids. Kurt was only seventeen, he was going to get out of this town. He was going to go to Broadway and make a name for himself and prove that he was better than everybody else in this town. He wasn't meant to kill himself.

"I remember when Kurt started school. The first day, he came to me and asked what a faggot was. At five, he was already being harassed because he wasn't afraid to be himself. The abuse escalated as he grew up, but he never let it get to him. I knew his life wasn't easy, but I was so proud of him for being strong.

"He was strong when he joined the football team to make me proud. He was strong when he decided it was time for me to know that he's gay. When he hit himself with a slushie to prove a point. When he threw the competition for a solo he loved. And every day, when he refused to let anyone see him cry after being thrown in the dumpster.

"People used to ask if I wished that Kurt was normal. I've always said no. Kurt being Kurt was what made him so special. Yes, I used to want a son who played football and would give me a heart attack when it came to irls. But I wouldn't trade Kurt for a thousand of those sons. Because Kurt was amazing, and everything I could have hoped for.

"These last weeks of his life didn't have to be now. But somebody hurt him, destroyed him so that he didn't feel like he could go on. And I don't know how to forgive that person-no, those people," Burt swallowed thickly before stepping down, allowing Finn to speak.

"Kurt wasn't just a friend to me. He became my brother over the time we lived together.

"There was so much people didn't know about him. We used to play video games all night, and he could beat me in over half the games we played. He was great at fixing cars, and taught me how to over the summer. And he was the best kicker on our football team.

"I still can't believe he's gone. He used to have a crush on me. We've had our fights. But every day I wait for him to walk through the front door. And in my head, I know it's never going to happen. But I still can't convince my heart." As he returned to his seat, Mercedes stood up as Rachel inserted a cd into the sound system.

"Hey y'all. Kurt was my best friend, and I couldn't figure out what to say. I thought a song would help," she nodded, and Rachel started the tape.

"Dear Kurt

There will be tears today, but we'll get through

You'll be here, I'll leave a chair for you

You made it through

You held your mystery so close

But I knew, I knew your way

I never found the words to say

Always thought we'd talk some day

Dear Kurt

You can't begin to know the pain you caused

How do I make sense of what I've gained

And what I've lost

What a mess, what a perfect mess

Left alone to sort it out

Through the sorrow, guilt, and rage

I keep coming back to doubt

Dear Kurt

How did a simple life get complicated

Days crawl by, I ask myself again

Should I have waited

In a world that's quick to judge

I will try to understand

It's so hard to find your way

When you have no voice to guide you on," The pre-recorded glee club joined in, adding a haunting background to Mercedes's voice.

"No voice, no sound

No sound, no words

No words, no sound

No sound, no voice

One life, one love

One love, one life

One life, one truth

One truth, one love

One voice"

As Mercedes ended the song, she barely made it back to her seat before collapsing into her mother's arms.

"Is there anyone else who would like to speak?" The minister asked, looking at the crowd. Noah Puckermen stood, walking to the podium with a piece of paper in his hand.

"I know I'm that last person people want to see up here, and I understand. I agree with you-I had the power to save Kurt, and I failed because of my fear. For that, I apologize, not only to all of you, but to Kurt.

"I wanted to start by reading his last note. Some of you don't know what happened, and I hope this will clear things up for you.

"I can't do this anymore. But I couldn't leave without explaining why. It started at the end of last school year. Azimio found me after school, and dragged me into the locker room. He raped me, telling me that I deserved it for being a faggot.

"Noah found me in the locker room an hour later, and helped me through. He treid to get me to a hospital, but I refused. That night, we started dating. But he wasn't ready to come out, so we kept it a secret.

"The day before school, before I had to face my rapist for the first time, Noah dumped me. He told me I was only good for sex and left me in the rain. Every bit of strength I had built up over the summer left and, over time, I just didn't care enough to live.

"To my dad, Mercedes, and everyone else-thank you for trying to help. But since nobody knew about Azimio or Noah, there was no way you could have succeeded," Noah's voice broke as he finished the letter.

"My fear drove Kurt to suicide. I could have helped, but my bad-ass reputation meant more to me. Kurt was so strong, and I broke him, and that's something I'll always regret.

"I had the privilege of getting to know Kurt over the summer. He was such an amazing guy, so talented at everything. He could spend the morning fixing cars and spend the afternoon singing and talking about designers I can't even pronounce. But more than that, he cared so much about those around him. If a friend called, needing someone to tlak to, he would drop whatever he was doing to help them.

"I miss Kurt more than I can say, and it's my fault. It's my fault that you all have to attend his funeral so early. And I'm so sorry.

…

Author's note: The song I used is an adaptation of "No Voice" from the musical Bare, I just took bits out and changed the words so that they could work coming from a friend.


End file.
